The Quest

A few elderly men and women made their way up and down the steps of the church, and Mercado said to an old woman in a black dress, “Mi scusi, Signora,” then slowly and distinctly asked her something.

She replied, pointed, and moved on, giving the strangers a backward glance and looking Vivian up and down. Mercado informed them that the rectory was behind the church and he led the way.

The rectory was a small stucco house set in a garden, and they went up the path to the door. They had discussed what they were going to say, and they’d agreed that Mercado would take the lead. There was a doorbell and Mercado rang it. They waited.

The door opened and a very young priest stood there and looked at them. “Si?”

Mercado inquired, “Padre Rulli?”

“Si.”

Mercado introduced himself and his companions, and said they were from L’Osservatore Romano, then Purcell heard him say, “Padre Armano.”

The priest didn’t slam the door in their faces, but he seemed to hesitate, then invited them inside. He ushered them into a small, plain sitting room and indicated a narrow upholstered couch. They sat, and the priest sat opposite them on a high-backed chair.

The priest, as Purcell noted, was young, and also short of stature, though he had a presence about him. His nose looked like it could have its own mailing address, and his eyes were dark and intelligent. He had thin lips and an olive complexion, and the sum total of his appearance was handsome in an interesting way.

Purcell glanced around the room. A woodstove radiated heat, one floor lamp cast a dim light in the corner behind the priest’s chair, and the crude plaster walls were adorned with colored prints of men with beards and women with veils. A white marble Jesus hung from an olivewood cross above the priest’s chair.

This was obviously a small and poor country church in a poor parish, Purcell thought; a place where the priest answered his own door. This was not the Vatican.

Mercado said something to the priest, enunciating each word so the Sicilian priest would have no difficulty understanding.

The priest replied, “You may speak English if it is better than your Italian.”

Mercado seemed surprised, then recovered and said, “Forgive us, Father, for not making an appointment-”

“My doorbell rings all day. It is the only doorbell in Berini. I am here.”

“Yes… well, as I said, we are from L’Osservatore Romano. Signorina Smith is my photographer and Signore Purcell is my… assistant.”

“I understand.” He informed them, “I have taught myself English. From books and tapes. Why? It is the language of the world, as Latin once was. Someday…” He didn’t complete his thought, but said, “So forgive me in advance if I do not understand, or if I mispronounce.”

Mercado assured him, “Your English is perfect.”

Father Rulli asked, “How may I be of assistance?”

Mercado replied, “My colleagues and I were in Ethiopia, in September, and while there we came across a priest who was dying-”

“Father Armano.”

“Yes.” He asked, “Have you been notified of his death?”

“I have.”

“I see… When were you notified?”

“In November. Why do you ask?”

Purcell answered without answering, “We’re writing a newspaper article on Father Armano, so we are collecting information.”

“Yes, of course. But it is my understanding that you have all this information from the Vatican press office.”

Purcell knew that the Vatican press office and L’Osservatore Romano were not one and the same, though sometimes they seemed to be. He glanced at Mercado.

Mercado said to Father Rulli, “I haven’t had contact with the Vatican press office.”

“They said they were in contact with L’Osservatore Romano.”

“They may be… but not me.”

Father Rulli admitted, “I have no idea how these things work in Rome.”

Purcell assured him, “Neither do we.”

Father Rulli smiled. He then informed them, “But you do know about the steps toward Father Armano’s beatification.”

At first Purcell thought that the priest had mispronounced “beautification,” and he was confused. Then he understood.

Mercado seemed dumbstruck.

Vivian asked, “What am I missing?”

Mercado told her, “Father Armano has been proposed for canonization-sainthood.”

“Oh…”

“Did you not know this?” asked the priest.

“We… had heard…”

“That is the purpose of your visit, is it not?”

“Yes… well, we wanted to gather some background on his early life. His time in the army… perhaps letters that he wrote to his family and friends.”